"There must be a rough estimate you can give me." "Guessing wouldn't be productive."
"Then damn it, give me' the facts. You have three victims so far. How long was it from the time the victims disappeared until the estimated time of death?"
"We don't know on the woman. We don't even have an ID yet, so we can't say how long she was missing before she died."
"What about the men?"
She hesitated, fearful of the inference Gus might draw. "The crime scene was the death scene."
"Talk English, please."
"Both men were murdered in their own homes. The killer didn't transport the victims before killing them. As far as we can tell, he killed them exactly where he engaged them. They were ambushed."
"So, you're saying . . . what?"
"Nothing for sure."
"You're saying it's too late for Beth, aren't you?" "It's important we act fast. That's true in any case." "You've written her off for dead."
"That's not true."
"I hear it in your voice. You're already thinking about the next victim. Beth's a statistic."
"No," she said sharply. "If you knew the kind of people who do this work, you would never say that. You'd know they don't forget the victims. Not ever."
"So Beth is a victim."
"I didn't say that."
"In your own mind, she is. You just said so."
"You're twisting my words. Stop acting like a lawyer." "How else should I act?"
"Like the intelligent, rational man I'm sure you are. Please, Gus. I'm on your side."
"Okay. You want me to act rational, I'll be rational. Just tell me one more thing."
"What?"
"How is my sixyear-old daughter supposed to act?" Andie was silent.
"Be sure to call me when your multi-jurisdictional task force figures that one out."
The line clicked, which was just as well. Andie couldn't think of anything to say.
Chapter Ten.
The first meeting of task force leaders took place in a windowless office in the Seattle Police Department. The long, rectangular table was too large for the room, making it impossible to move unless someone stood up to let the other pass. A droopy brown plant stood in the corner. A detailed map of King County stretched on one wall. Blue push pins marked the spot of two homicides. A red pin marked the spot where the third body had been recovered, as the actual site of her murder was unknown. Three bulging case files were arranged neatly on the table like an imposing center-piece.
Andie sat beside Victoria Santos, their backs to the map. On the other side were Detective Kessler and his direct supervisors, both sergeants in the homicide division. Behind them, seated against the wall, were the patrol officers who had been first on the scene at each of the three homicides, as well as the ID technicians who had been dispatched to each crime scene. Also in the room were homicide detectives from the King County Sheriff's office, a pathologist from the medical examiner's office, and a rep from the Washington state troopers. They weren't likely to contribute much to the construction of the profile at this early stage, but involving certain key people from the get-go was an effective way to build inter-agency cooperation.
Lieutenant Ethan Wile of Seattle P. D. entered the room at precisely nine a. M., the oldest man in the room but easily the most It was Wile who had personally contacted the FBI and pushed for the creation of a multi-jurisdictional task force.
"Good morning." He was speaking to the group, but his eyes were on Victoria. She smiled back. It was the first time Andie had seen her smile that way, with sparkling eyes that bespoke true affection, possibly an old romance. The age gap between Victoria and Wile was like the one between Andie and Isaac, though Andie wasn't exactly sure why that thought had popped to mind.
It was no surprise Victoria had come to know Wile. The FBI's criminal profilers generally covered certain geographic regions, and the Pacific Northwest seemed to draw more than its share of serial killers. Maybe it was the mysterious rain and fog that drew them, an eerie shroud for the victims of their unspeakable violence. Maybe it was the challenge of a worthy adversary, a well-trained police force that had understood the psychopathology of serial murderers since Ted Bundy moved from a spot on the Washington governor's 1972 reelection campaign to the FBI's Ten Most Wanted list. Whatever the reason, travel to Seattle had earned Victoria enough frequent-flyer miles for a trip to the moon.
Wile said, "I can't stay for the whole meeting, but let me highlight some of the things that prompted my call to the FBI."
"Please," said Victoria.
"We've got three victims. All strangled. All three received multiple stab wounds, but the medical examiner puts all invasive wounds as postmortem. In each case the victim appears to have died from strangulation before the killer ever unsheathed his knife."
"So you have serious overkill."